


Out of reach of my arms

by unluckyloki



Category: Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily hugs, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kinda fake dating, M/M, Maybe a bit confused, Miscommunication, Pining, Sweet and short, They start Really Dating the next day, Tim does not have a spleen, but!!, desperate pining, only for less than a day and only because Miscommunication, this is the hill i will die on, tim gets sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckyloki/pseuds/unluckyloki
Summary: Tim is very tired and also very pissed at Bruce.To get back at him, Tim asks Kon to be his plus one during a gala, hoping to terrify his dad with a prospective alien\meta boyfriend.It does not go according to the plan.It's a complete disaster (or is it?)
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 24
Kudos: 277





	Out of reach of my arms

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a gift for the Timkon Secret Santa for @Mizuphae. Happy holidays!

This disaster starts because Tim is  _ pissed  _ at Bruce.

It’s been a hell of a week, with a kidnapping case and limited time to find the victim and then - a massive fight between gangs in the Narrows, an all hands on deck situation. 

All of this, of course, did not give Tim much time for sleeping.

Which led to Bruce commenting on Tim’s life choices and telling him to go to sleep, which in turn prompted Tim to reply that Bruce doesn’t have to pretend to know what’s best for Tim, and that - to a gloriously loud shouting match between the two of them.

(Alfred had to interfere at one point. Tim wasn’t completely sure, but he thought he saw Jason eating popcorn somewhere in the corner of the cave, while Alfred was leading Tim out.)

Tim feels, however, fully justified in his ire - Bruceman Batwayne, who wears a cape to battle his childhood trauma by running around the rooftops in a bat costume, doesn’t get to tell him what to do. Tim isn’t 13 anymore, he’s an adult. 

(And it’s not like Bruce could control him back then anyway.)

Then, the annual Christmas Gala came. Which Tim, still tired because of the previous week and the WE meetings he had to rise early for, protested vocally.

‘A Christmas gala!’ Tim is saying, following Bruce to the kitchen table in the wake of their semi-mutual, but mostly instigated by Alfred, truce, ‘why are we hosting a  _ Christmas  _ gala, Bruce - we’re Jewish!’

Bruce mostly shrugs at Tim, not making eye contact and being intensely interested in his tablet, which he uses for reading newspapers.

‘We're Jewish, but the majority of Gotham elite are not. And they're the ones donating money. And it’s a Wayne tradition. You’d only need to show up for a few hours and spend some time with family, take a few photos for publicity.’

Tim makes a vague sound that’s meant to contain his annoyance and frustration, but Alfred appearing at the doorway makes him shut his mouth and not actually say what he was about to.

Bruce takes that as an agreement, and adds, with an air of forced casualty.

‘Also, you can bring a plus one. Isn't there a nice girl you’re currently dating? I saw photos of you two in the papers.’

Tim is so  _ thoroughly  _ offended Bruce finds out about his life from papers instead of  _ asking him like a normal person _ that Tim almost forgets how to breathe. He opens and closes his mouth a few times and nothing comes out of it.

Because, first of all - he and that girl were only out for dinner. Which was arranged for mutual benefit - media exposure for her, the press pissing off for a bit with questions about Tim’s apparently non existent love life for him. Also, they have only been on one date and that's it.

Alfred is still in the room, so Tim thinks it’s best if he doesn’t start another shouting match.

‘I’m not with her anymore,’ he grumbles instead, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bruce finally lifts his gaze to look at him.

‘I’m sure you can find someone else the day before the gala. How hard can it be for you.’ 

Tim just. Blinks at Bruce. Blinks at Alfred who’s approaching the table they’re at.

Turns around.

And leaves the room.

He feels like he’s transcended the ability to get any more appalled at Bruce’s absolutely tactless, heartless criticism he manages to pull with such a straight face. Did Bruce really have to rub it in that Tim's not dating anyone? Did he have to highlight how hard Tim struggles to hold on to the people he likes?

He’s mindlessly driving home when an idea strikes him - to get back at Bruce, he just needs to follow the man’s rules, but add his own twist to them.

Bruce wants Tim to find a plus one a day before the gala, implying that Tim shouldn’t be so pathetic as to not be able to find a date? Okay, so Tim will find a plus one, but one that’s neither gonna make Bruce happy, nor would be good PR in the press.

He thinks over the options that are gonna hit both of the targets and settles on messaging Conner. He doesn’t really expect Kon to answer straight away, but he does, agreeing to go to the gala with Tim.

Okay, so Tim has a plus one that will annoy Bruce, because Bruce doesn’t like aliens and metas, and Kon is both. Also, the press will see Tim with a guy as his date - which will surely bring a shitstorm of news articles that the WE PR department is gonna have to work really hard to contain. 

Tim gets to his apartment and goes to work on his laptop - with a few projects for his R&D department in WE being unfinished, there’s no rest for Tim in the near future. Tim’s tired brain tries to signal him that he’s missing out on something very important, that tomorrow has something he has to be wary of, but he can’t remember what.

Tim doesn’t get much sleep that night, either, and has to finish a few projects at WE the next day, so he has to use makeup to cover up the heavy bags under his eyes and generally return the color that will make him look more like an alive person and not a zombie. He arrives at the gala fashionably late, and Alfred informs him that ‘Master Kent’ is already waiting for him.

Tim sees Kon and. 

Oh.

Okay.

He stands in a dazed stupor as Kon approaches him.

Because Conner looks  _ dazzling _ . 

He’s wearing a suit that Tim vaguely remembers ordering for him. The suit’s an elegant three piece and it’s exactly in Kon’s size, not like the bulky, oversized clothes he hides in while in Smallville. Conner’s also wearing his fake glasses, and the thick black frames look so ridiculously good on him that Tim stares. 

He’s actually doing a lot of starring, and maybe even ogling, because Kon in a suit is a suddenly breathtaking sight that Tim can’t tear his eyes away from.

Oh, this is what his sleep deprived brain was trying to warn him against yesterday.

That Kon is  _ gorgeous  _ and seeing him in fancy clothes is  _ not  _ really gonna help Tim’s crush that he’s been nursing for quite some time.

‘Here you are!’ Tim’s  _ best friend _ says, ‘I’ve been looking all over for you!’

Kon smiles the most beautiful, radiant smile Tim’s ever seen and his heart skips a beat. Conner, damn his superpowers, hears it.

‘Is everything alright?’ Kon asks, frowning in a ridiculously attractive way.

'Yeah, sure,' Tim lies. 'I'm just gearing up for the gala and all of Bruce's nasty guests.'

Kon's expression clears up.

‘Oh, thank heavens, I was sure I’d messed something up. I don’t know what I should be doing, like, what’s the protocol? Should I have brought you a corsage?’

‘A  _ corsage _ ? We’re not going to  _ prom _ ,’ Tim laughs.

It’s easier to laugh knowing that Kon is just nervous, rather than suspicious of Tim’s traitorous crush. He grabs Conner’s hand and drags him towards the hall entrance.

‘Although, you’d have had to bring me a _boutonniere_ for that - they’re the things that get pinned to your jacket. We’d probably get a matching set, but, as far as I remember, we’re a tad too old for prom.’

Tim says that last bit with a teasing smile, trying to get Kon to laugh - but instead, Kon rewards him with another blinding smile that makes Tim’s heart stutter.

On second thought, inviting Kon as his plus one may have been a mistake.

‘There’s more reasons to wear them, other than prom,’ Kon says and his smile manages to be both teasing and fond.

He’s also still holding Tim’s hand in his.

Tim’s heart goes into a gallop. 

Oh boy. 

He hopes he survives this damned gala.

***

An hour into the gala Tim realizes that he may survive, but end up terribly brokenhearted.

Because, it turns out that Kon is a great actor - he manages to play the perfect date for Tim, bringing him food and drinks gallantly, following him everywhere, holding his hand at talking to Tim's siblings as naturally as if he's already a part of the family. The family's reaction to Kon coming over as Tim's date is truly baffling for Tim - instead of being surprised, Tim's siblings include Kon in their conversations, don't seem to bat an eye when Kon encourages Tim to lean on him and puts his hands around Tim.

Tim leaves Kon with the others to take a short walk to the snacks table, hoping to clear up his head a little. Standing there, Tim looks back at Kon, surrounded by his siblings, talking to Duke animatedly, looking like he belongs there. Kate catches his eyes and gives him thumbs up, grinning widely. Tim grabs a flute of champagne and drinks it in one long gulp.

The worst of it all - Bruce doesn't even seem bothered by Conner attending as Tim's plus one. When they arrived, Bruce just looked at them, sighed deeply, and left to go entertain a group of elderly rich women.

When Tim returns to the group, a glass of juice for Conner and a tiny plate with canapés that became Kon's favorite over the course of the gala in the other, Kon takes the plate from his hands, raises one arm, as if expecting Tim to take his place there, at Kon's side, and says absentmindedly, ' _ Thanks, babe _ !'

Tim steps forward and hides his burning face in Kon's side. Kon, seemingly oblivious to what that has done to Tim, wraps his arm around him, as if this is exactly as they always are.

Tim feels his heart pound in his chest, feels lightheaded and hot all over.

'Tim, are you okay?' Kon asks discreetly, when the lull of conversation shifts from him to somebody else in their group.

Huh, Tim didn't even notice when that happened.

'Yeah, I'm fine, just tired a bit.'

'You worked all night, again?' Kon asks, managing to sound both stern and fond.

Tim answers him with a wordless hum of agreement and shakes Conner's hand off himself, stretching a bit.

'I wish you rested at least a bit more,' Kon sighs.

'And I wish there was no crime in Gotham, but well,' Tim laughs shortly. 

The laugh dies in Tim's mouth, because Kon's looking at him with something soft and sad, almost vulnerable, hidden in his deep blue eyes. Before he gives himself a chance to think about it, Tim blurts out, ' _ let's go dance _ ?'

Kon's eyes light up, leaving no place for that sudden sadness. Tim offers Kon his hand, and he takes it. Walking like that through the crowd turns out to be difficult, so they shift closer to each other. Kon puts his warm, big hand on the small of Tim’s back to guide him toward the dance floor.

Tim is going to  _ die _ , and he thinks that it’s maybe worth it.

‘Okay,’ Kon says, when they get to the part of the room where everyone’s waltzing to their hearts’ content. ‘Who’s going to lead?’

‘I will,’ Tim answers, without thinking too much about it. ‘Oh, uh, wait, did _you_ wanna lead?’

‘I’m fine with you leading,’ Kon says, wrapping his hand around Tim’s hand and raising their intertwined arms to form the right pose for the dance.

Tim places his other hand on Kon’s left shoulder blade, and Kon puts his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim takes the first step forward, and Kon steps backward.

‘We can switch later, if you want to?’ Tim proposes nervously, biting his lip.

‘Oh, we can always negotiate switching,’ Kon answers with a grin.

Tim sputters and blushes. He purposely quickens his pace, just to mess with Conner, and make him focus on his steps and not the stupid jokes.

Kon joking is a good reality check, though - because Tim really needs to remember that all of this is _not real_ , that sweet and caring and flirty Kon is  _ not  _ for him, not something he can have. They’re just playing a game to mess with Tim’s dad. Kon’s a great friend like that.

‘Hey, let’s switch?’ Kon says halfway through the music, ‘I wanna do the twirl, but you’re. Uh.’

Tim switches their arms’ positions mid-step, and puts his hand into Conner’s.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m too short for that, I get it,’ Tim says.

He’s actually almost the same height as Dick, which is also the average height for men in the US, but in their family of giants and among Tim’s unfairly tall friends, it hardly matters.

They only need a few steps to get used to the new dynamics, and Tim follows Kon’s lead as easily as Kon did his. There’s something soothing in the way they are so used to each other, in each step that’s mirrored so effortlessly, an easy understanding.

Tim watches Kon’s knitted brows as the other man focuses on their steps and hopes that his  _ best friend _ doesn’t notice how Tim’s gaze lingers on his lips.

‘So, the gala’s not as bad as your whining led me to believe,’ Kon says, when he’s confident enough in his steps and finally lifts his gaze to meet Tim’s.

‘Oh, shut up! You never had to listen to Gotham’s rich and famous brag about their new yachts and it shows. And have you seen Mr Anderson’s hands? He wore like 10 diamond rings!’

They both laugh at the memory of a middle-aged man obviously compensating for something.

‘Okay, I see that I just got lucky with the company,’ Kon says, winking shamelessly, and then adds in a soft voice, ‘I’m really glad you asked me to come.’

Tim’s heart is pounding in his chest. He doesn’t get to say anything in reply, though, because the music draws to the end and Kon gasps about nearly forgetting something, and then  _ twirls  _ Tim. The motion is smooth and fluid, and Kon catches him carefully after, but Tim’s head keeps spinning even after they leave the dance floor. 

Tim’s suit suddenly becomes too hot for him, and he has to take off his tie and undo a few buttons on his shirt. Kon brings him a glass of water, but that doesn’t help much, either.

‘Are you okay?’ Conner asks, and from his expression Tim knows that Kon won’t believe him if he says yes.

‘I. Probably. Should’ve slept more than two hours last night,’ Tim admits.

‘Two hours?!’ Kon yelps so loudly that it makes people around them turn to look at them. Then, he adds in a quieter voice, ‘we’re leaving right now and putting you to bed!’

Tim feels so desperately tired, almost nauseous with it, that he doesn’t even protest. Kon takes him to his room and away from the gala, and at some point Alfred joins them, and somehow, between the two of them, Tim gets changed into his pajamas and gets put to bed. As soon as Tim’s head touches the pillow, he’s out as a light.

***

The next morning, Tim wakes up past midday, to his head pounding. He wonders what kind of champagne did Bruce buy for that damned gala, that only two glasses of it made Tim’s head hurt so much.

He goes down for a very late breakfast and finds Bruce at the table, looking like he’s also just woken up. Tim starts up the coffee machine as Bruce considers him with a critical eye.

‘Why isn't Conner joining us for breakfast?’ he finally asks.

‘Why would he? He’s probably had his breakfast early with Ma.’

‘But didn’t he stay for the night?’

Tim nearly spills the milk he’s prepared for the coffee all over himself.

‘What do you mean ‘stayed for the night’?!’ Tim finally turns to Bruce to see the man frowning, ‘of course he didn’t!’

Bruce’s frown deepens.

‘You don’t have to be embarrassed,’ Bruce says levelly, ‘your siblings also bring over their significant others - Jason brought Roy last Fourth of July.’ 

‘Ew, don’t remind me,’ Tim scrunches his face. 

He walked in on Jason and Roy when they were here, and has not been the same ever since. There  _ are  _ things he does  _ not  _ want to know about his older brother.

Then, what Bruce  _ actually  _ said catches up to him.

‘Significant others? You think Kon’s my  _ significant other _ and you’re  _ calm _ ?  _ Why  _ are you so calm?! I thought you'd be pissed! You hate aliens and you hate metas and he's both!’

Bruce looks genuinely disturbed by that.

‘I do not-’ he starts.

‘Yes, you do!’ Tim interrupts. ‘You called Kory nothing but ‘the alien’ when she dated Dick!’

‘I was wrong,’ Bruce says with an expression that makes Tim think that pains him to say it. ‘She made him happy and their relationship was important to him, and I acted childishly. Dick will always be my son, but he’s also an adult, I should have trusted his judgement.’

The last thing Bruce says sounds suspiciously like he’s quoting someone, but Tim’s head hurts too much for him to try and decipher that sudden moment of self-awareness.

It starts hurting even more, after Bruce adds, ‘I promise to be more supportive of you and Conner.’

Tim has to grab the kitchen counter to keep himself upright. 

‘Why are you saying that,’ he asks.

Bruce shrugs, like it’s something obvious.

‘He makes you happy. Everyone can see it. Even the newspapers.’

‘Even the  _ what  _ now?!’

Bruce wordlessly hands him his iPad, with tabs of different sources of news about the second youngest Wayne and his new boyfriend. There are articles, there’s a dozen of photos of Kon holding him, of Tim looking up at Kon lovingly, of them dancing and not noticing the cameras around them, of Kon leading Tim to the door marked ‘family members only’ to keep the guests out of the main halls of the Manor. It turns out that, while Tim was sleeping, the news made it to the nation-level news sites, and now there’s an article with a quote from Clark, that explains how Tim and Kon met during one of the Wayne charity events Clark took Kon to.

Tim sits down heavily and doesn’t notice Bruce taking the iPad out of his hands.

How didn’t he notice the reporters following their every step? And now all of these photos are there for everyone to see - to see how dumbly in love he is with his best friend, and won’t Conner notice? Of course he’ll notice, he’ll notice and they won’t ever be able to be friends again, and it’s all Tim’s stupid fault! 

Tim feels like crying and also maybe vomiting. 

‘Tim?’ Bruce calls somewhere to Tim’s right, and he sounds terribly worried. ‘Tim, sweetheart, what’s wrong?’

‘He was just my plus one’, Tim says, and his voice sounds  _ wet _ . ‘It was all fake, he was just there to be my plus one.’

Bruce sighs and then there’s hands on Tim’s shoulder, and he’s turned sideways and Bruce presses him closer, getting Tim to lean his cheek on his hip.

‘Does  _ he  _ know he was  _ just  _ your plus one?’ Bruce asks softly.

Tim tries to remember the text he sent Conner and what he answered, but his head is pounding. He also finds that it hurts to swallow.

‘Dad,’ he says, and feels Bruce tense because of the word Tim doesn’t use often, ‘I don't feel so good.’

Bruce’s large, calloused hand reaches out to touch his forehead. Tim thinks that his father’s cold hand feels great on his head, and whimpers when Bruce takes it away. Bruce hums something soothing and hugs him, letting Tim press his face into Bruce’s hip. Tim’s vaguely aware that Alfred has been called, and then a thermometer is stuck into his mouth. 

There’s some more murmuring that flies over Tim’s head, or maybe gets lost because Tim falls asleep a little, but in the end, he is shaken awake.

‘You’re feverish, sweetheart,’ Bruce explains, lifting him up as easily as he would a five year old. ‘I’m taking you to bed and we’ve already contacted doctor Leslie, she’ll be here any minute now.’

‘Mm, the spleen thing?’ Tim asks, his head lolling to the side to rest on his father’s shoulder.

‘Yes,’ Bruce says, and it somehow sounds almost self-deprecating, ‘ _ the spleen thing _ indeed.’

Bruce’s arms tighten around Tim.

He misses a lot of what happens after that - just vaguely knows that Leslie comes and there’s some tests being administered, he is given something to drink and then he sleeps. 

When Tim wakes up, it’s dark outside, and Dick is sitting at his bedside with a book in his hands.

When Tim tries and fails to sit up, Dick catches him.

‘Woah there, little brother,’ Dick says, helping him sit up. ‘You had us really worried.’

‘Ugh, I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck,’ Tim complains.

‘Oh, you know -  _ general and complete exhaustion _ that results in a  _ fever  _ and being constantly  _ sleep deprived _ would do that to you,’ Dick says with an air of easiness that does not match the righteous anger in his eyes.

Tim shrinks under his brother’s burning gaze.

‘Oh no, Bruce is  _ so  _ gonna tell me he told me so,’ Tim tries to divert, but Dick’s attention is not so easily redirected.

‘We were really worried for you, baby bird,’ his brother says, seemingly having decided to change tactics and looking at Tim with a kicked puppy look on his face.

It is terribly effective.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tim says, visually deflating.

Dick hugs him and lets Tim put his head on his shoulder.

‘Isn’t it great that Conner took you away from the gala earlier yesterday?’ Dick starts, not at all sneakily bringing Kon up in the conversation. ‘By the way, have you two talked? Bruce told me you think Kon was only there for something fake.’

‘It  _ was  _ fake!’ Tim says into his older brother’s shoulder miserably. ‘I asked him to be my fake date to piss off Bruce. Which didn’t even work, because Bruce didn’t even seem to be angry.’

‘And why do you think that is?’

‘Because Bruce has seen you lot choose the worst possible partners and now thinks that there’s no way I could do worse than that?’ Tim tries, and yelps when Dick pinches him. ‘Ouch! How dare you, I’m sick!’

‘You’re an oblivious idiot, that’s what you are,’ Dick says, ruffling his hair affectionately. ‘And it looks like you and Conner really need to talk. Text him and ask him to come over - I’ll feel better if I know that someone’s here with you while we’re patrolling.’

The distinct lack of other siblings finally catches up with Tim.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, concerned.

‘Scarecrow,’ is all that Dick says, and that makes Tim fall back into the bed with a groan.

'This is the worst time to get sick!'

‘Don’t worry, everyone’s out to get him and we even got Kate to help. She’s really excited for you two, by the way - she fully expects Red Robin and Superboy to join Gotham’s Pride parade this year.’

Tim groans and covers his face with a pillow.

‘Oh no, you don’t get to smother yourself with a pillow,’ Dick says, mercilessly taking the pillow away. ‘Text him, get this pining nonsense over with.’

A phone is being shoved into Tim’s face. Dick doesn’t get off him until Tim actually sends a text to Conner.

Tim’s heart skips a beat when he receives the answer- Conner is awake, and he is ready to come to the Manor, and no, it’s no trouble at all, he’ll fly over in a few minutes.

‘You two dorks,’ Dick sighs, having shamelessly read the whole conversation over Tim’s shoulder.

Tim kicks him, but it’s weak, and Dick only laughs on his way out of the room.

‘Go get your man!’ Dick cheers from the safety of the door.

‘Dick!’ Tim yelps indignantly, and that doesn’t exactly sound like his brother’s name, but rather something else.

Dick doesn’t mind, and laughs manically all the way down the corridor.

Which leaves Tim alone with his thoughts and oh boy, are they  _ not _ nice - he thinks about the upcoming conversation with impeding horror. 

The only reason his mind stops coming up with a lot of horrible excuses to text Conner and stop him from coming is that Kon actually appears in his window, smiling. 

No, nope, no, no, no, no, no. He's not ready, why did he think that he was ready?

Kon's smile dims. Tim sees him mouth his name, and tells Kon to open the window and enter. Kon does, and then floats towards Tim's bed. He ignores the chair Dick left by Tim's bed and sits directly at the bed's edge.

'Tim!' Kon says, Tim's name sweet and oh so  _ safe _ in Kon's mouth. 'I called you all morning, I was so worried!'

Conner takes Tim's hand into his. 

'I got sick,' Tim answers, his voice hoarse.

His skin burns where Kon's thumb is softly caressing his palm. Not the first time that day, Tim feels dizzy, even though this time the reason has nothing to do with his fever. 

'I gotta tell you something,' Tim says, not being brave enough to look up at Kon. 'I'm really sorry about how yesterday turned out. I must've been too tired to notice the reporters around us. I was just trying to get a raise out of Bruce with that fake dating thing, and now they've even dragged Clark into it, I'm so-' 

Tim stops, because Conner suddenly lets go of his hand, as if it's burned him. Tim looks up to see a mixture of horrified realization dawning on Kon's face. Something clicks in Tim's brain.

'Did you really think-' he starts, just as Kon says,

'Did you  _ not _ mean it-'

They both stop and stare at each other.

'You didn't,' Conner whispers, and the look in his eyes is almost betrayed. 'You didn't mean it and I read it wrong and  _ oh shit _ , I'm such an  _ idiot! _ '

Kon pushes off Tim's bed and gets up, almost stumbling back. He murmurs something about needing to leave, but Tim stands up on his knees on his bed and grabs at Kon, holding him in place. 

'No, no, no, Kon, stop!' he clings to his T-shirt. 'Did  _ you _ mean it?'

Kon. Blushes? He doesn't let Tim meet his eyes, but nods.

He  _ nods _ !

Tim laughs and pulls Kon down by his neck to kiss him.

The kiss is frankly horrible, because Conner sputters into it and doesn't even open his mouth to answer him. So, Tim lets him go.

'We better figure out how that can be improved,' Tim says, not being able to keep the smile out of his voice. 'That kiss wasn't good at all.'

'Tim!' Kon whines.

Tim can't help but laugh again, because he feels like he's just swallowed a balloon full of happiness. Also, Kon's blushing up to his ears, and that's adorable.

'I like you,' Tim says, because it's suddenly very easy to do that, knowing that Kon likes him, too. 'Really, really like you.'

Kon sits down heavily, and Tim makes more space for him on the bed.

'You like me?' Kon repeats, dumbstruck.

'Of course I do, you dork!'

'I'm the dork?! You're the one who said it was supposed to be fake!'

Tim looks down, ashamed.

'I'm- Yeah. Yeah, that was dumb, please, forget it ever happened.'

Kon takes his hand into his and Tim intertwines their fingers.

'Are you asking me to forget our first date?' Conner asks teasingly. 'Never!'

He leans down and pecks Tim on the lips. Tim smiles into it.

'I'll take you on a proper date when I feel better,' Tim promises.

He leans up to plant a chaste kiss on Kon's lips.

Kon answers.

It doesn't stay so chaste for long, and some unidentified time later they fall into the bed, both out of breath. Tim feels tired and sleepy, and they decide to spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix on Tim's laptop. 

Falling asleep on top of Conner, his newly acquired boyfriend, Tim thinks - this may not have been a disaster after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I have looked at a lot of photos of same-sex couples dancing, it really looks good!  
> I also have 0 knowledge and experience dancing waltz, so I studied WikiHow for this fic😂
> 
> I keep writing Tim and Kon dancing, hope to see some art like that one day 🥺
> 
> P.S. important note - my favorite way to write Bruce is to assume that he has 0 communicational skills. He wants to be nice to his kids, but ends up phrasing what he wanted to say in the most wrong way possible. Now you can go back and try to guess what Bruce actually meant when he said that it shouldn't be hard for Tim to find a +1 a day before the gala.


End file.
